Finality
by Child of Ragnarok
Summary: Four days after his life was turned upside down, he reflects on what could have been, and why it is the way it is. MAJOR DDLC SPOILERS. Rated T for safety.


**DISCLAIMER:** _Doki Doki Literature Club! _and its characters are the property of Dan Salvato. This is a fanwork that is in no way intended to monetize. Please support the official release.

**MAJOR SPOILERS FOR _DOKI DOKI LITERATURE CLUB!_ AHEAD** \- you have been warned.

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**FINALITY**

_**by **_**Child of Ragnarok**

It's sunny.

Of all days, I'd expect this day to be gray and raining. But no, it's all nice and sunny and not a single cloud on the sky. Slightly nippy, of course - it _is _October, after all - but the falling leaves just add an extra layer to the scene, painting it in a vivid red and yellow and orange hue.

This is the kind of day where I would normally almost... celebrate... being alive. But not today.

Because where I'm standing, I can see the elegant white-ish casket and the large photograph of the smiling girl, and it only reminds me that _she _isn't here with us.

And Sayori never will be again.

Sayori...It's been four days now since that awful, _awful_ morning when I came to get her for the festival. Instead of being greeted by her sunny, if sleepy, self, what met me as I gently opened her bedroom door was her hanging corpse.

Four days, and I have barely slept a wink since. Because I keep reliving it when I close my eyes.

The creaking, in the otherwise deathly silence, of the ceiling beam she tied the rope to. Her ratty old desk chair, knocked over underneath her. Her body swaying lightly in the air. Her dull, lifeless eyes. Her blood-crusted fingers.

I involuntarily shudder at the thought as my eyes begin to sting with fresh tears. Monika must have noticed, because she huddles closer to me, takes my right hand and squeezes it lightly.

Glancing over at the club president, I notice that in addition to her black jacket and skirt, she's wearing a black bow in lieu of her ever-present white one. And for the first time, I notice the mixture of mascara and tears flooding from her puffy, emerald eyes, painting streaks down her cheeks. I can tell she's trying to hold it together, to be strong for the club members - and she's failing.

I decide to keep this to myself, and simply squeeze her hand back, thankful for the touch.

A fidget on my left reminds me of the girl at my other side. Yuri looks almost as she always does, except that she wears a combination of black jacket and skirt not unlike Monika's, and that she has also elected to go for a black hair clip instead of her normal purple one. She holds her hands up to her chest, also seemingly holding back tears, albeit unsuccessfully as a few have slipped down her cheeks as well.

I long to put my arm around her, to comfort her in any way I can, but I can't, because the hand that isn't holding Monika's is currently gently rubbing Natsuki's left shoulder where she stands in front of me. Unlike the other two, Natsuki is wearing a light gray jacket and skirt, and the normal red ribbons in her hair are black. I can sense how tense she is, how her body is continuously wracked by sobs she fights to keep down.

I feel a tear slipping down my cheek in sympathy with my friends' pain, and the pain I feel myself, and I can barely see the minister as he begins speaking. "We are gathered here today to say our last goodbyes to Sayori Kimishima..."

The old priest then goes on, talking about Sayori and how she was always considered one of the happiest, brightest, kindest children around. More tears well up in my eyes as I realize that until almost a week ago - five days ago - I was as taken in by the ear-to-ear smile on her face as everyone else.

_Depression. _Looking at her photograph, there is no trace of the face Sayori desperately wanted to hide from the world - the face she considered to be her true face. She wore her mask to perfection. Even I never knew about it, and I knew her longer than anyone - other than her mother, of course.

And in the end, what did I do? I failed her worse than I possibly could have.

If only I hadn't been such an ass to her over the past week...

If only I hadn't turned down her confession...

If only I hadn't left her to her own devices afterwards like a total moron...

More tears fall. I'm pathetic. I couldn't even be there for my best friend when she needed me. Some friend I am.

"...and let us pray that Sayori has found peace and is with our God now."

If Natsuki notices my grip on her stiffen with ire, she doesn't indicate it in any way. What kind of loving god would let Sayori - _anyone, _but especially Sayori - suffer as she did? Enough to make her believe that death was an option? The only option? Judging from how Monika grasps my hand a little tighter, she's thinking the same thing..

Someone is leading the congregation in a hymn - _Fairest Lord Jesus, _I believe. I try to sing along, but quickly discover that my throat feels like I'm trying to swallow a keg of molasses and abandon the attempt. Monika's soprano rings out clearly, while Yuri's normally deep alto is much quieter, but no less beautiful.

The congregation falls silent, and Sayori's mom steps up to the podium. I can see her visibly choking down tears - the poor woman having lost first her husband a few weeks after Sayori's birth in a freak workplace accident, and now her only child - but when she speaks, her voice is surprisingly clear and strong. "I - I would like to thank you all for coming today. It means a lot to me, and I know it would mean the world to Sayori as well, for her to see how much you all care and love her."

I briefly wonder how many of this crowd of mourners bothered even for a second to let Sayori know how much they allegedly cared while she was still alive. Then, with a pang, I realize I shouldn't throw stones in this particular glass house.

Sayori's mom speaks a little further, some amusing stories and anecdotes from Sayori's life, but the way she ends it rattles me.

"And I would especially like to thank Anon."

I manage to look up in surprise, but the still-flowing tears name it hard to see.

"I never got to have more children, but you were the best brother to Sayori I could have ever hoped for. You could light up my daughter's life like nobody else could."

Her speech trails off a little, or maybe I stop listening, because I feel awful about it. _The best brother? _Yeah, right - it's my fault she's dead to begin with, remember? Yuri must have noticed, because she inches closer, holds on to my left upper arm and lays her head on my shoulder. I lean my head against hers, savoring the comfort.

"For dust you were, and to dust you will return." I pay attention to the priest as he bows to the casket. "Grant her, O Lord, thy peace, and let thy eternal light shine upon her."

The casket lurches softly before it begins to move, taking Sayori to her final resting place. Monika lets go of my hand and buries her face in her hands, unable to hold back any longer. I fight down my own tears, even though it's getting even more fiendishly difficult.

I get a last glimpse of the flowers decorating the casket. The bunch of white roses sprinkled with little blue flowers I can't identify, probably from Sayori's mom judging from its position on center stage. A wreath of white roses, simple and elegant, from my parents - and technically from me as well, though I had nothing to do with the process. Some other bouquets from other visitors. And, of course, the one I can't take my eyes off. The bouquet of multicolored flowers: light blue, deep purple, light and slightly subdued pink, some little green sort I've never heard of, and a subdued yellow as well, all tied up neatly in a red ribbon. The one from us at the Literature Club, the one we pooled our money together to pay for.

I almost smile at the memory of me bringing up the idea of buying a bouquet together at the club meeting the other day, and Monika _pouncing _on it. Almost as if she was as desperate for Sayori to feel how much we loved her as I was. Then Yuri came up with the idea to have the bouquet match all of our eyes, a tangible reminder of us for Sayori to keep wherever she went. At the florist's, after all was paid for, Natsuki surprised us all by plucking a long red ribbon straight out of her hair and asking if the bouquet could be bound up with that. I suppose she also wanted to contribute something other than money. No matter. It was a really sweet gesture, and the florist was happy to oblige.

The flowers fade into a hazy, multicolored blob as more and more tears blur my eyes, run down my cheek, and even dribble from my nose. The casket slips past my field of view into the ground, taking Sayori away from us forever. The subdued sobbing on my left and the hiccuping, quiet wail in front of me lets me know that both Yuri and Natsuki are crying now, unashamed, as well. The piercing cry somewhere in front of me lets me know that Sayori's mom has also finally lost the last of her composure.

"Amen", the minister says and we all repeat the phrase, murmuring it to the best of our ability.

And just like that, the funeral is over, and Sayori is no more.

It feels so final. Everything I wanted to say to her keeps bouncing in my head. How much I loved her - how much I love her still. Even if it wasn't in the way she wanted, I hope she knows that I love her, like the sister she was to me. And how sorry I am for taking her for granted. I wipe my eyes on my sleeve in a vain attempt to stop the tears.

I split away from the girls to go talk to Sayori's mom for a second. Not much is said between us. I thank her for mentioning me during the eulogy. She gives me one of her spine-crushing hugs, crying into my shoulder as she does. When she lets go, she falls to her knees and wails again. My mom and dad are much the same, but without the wailing; of course they're both crying - Sayori was as good as part of the family - but they're much more subdued about it.

Going back to the girls, I finally get a good look at Natsuki for the first time since we arrived today. She looks much like the rest of us; tears streaking down her face, eyes blotchy and red, sadness written all over her in a tangible manner. Wordlessly, I open my arms to her, and she doesn't even hesitate to hug me. I wonder if she's thinking the same things I am? If she's I doubt it. Even though Natsuki is a little snippy, I know deep down that she wouldn't hurt a fly. No. What happened, what led us here... it's all on me.

"Anon..." she hiccups, clutching on to me tighter. "It... it hurts so much..."

"I know, Nat", I whisper into her hair. "I know."

Looking up for a second, I see Monika and Yuri clinging on to each other much like Natsuki and I. I only have to catch Monika's eye and lift my left arm slightly, and the two of them join us in a fierce group hug. And finally, for the first time, I feel safe enough to let it out. The hiccups and the tears and the moaning - all of it. I imagine I'm the definition of ugly crying at this point, but I don't care.

"I'm sorry", I whimper as we break apart from the hug. Is it an apology to the girls for having to see me like this? A futile attempt to apologize to Sayori for every way I've wronged her? Or both? I don't know anymore.

"Hush", Monika whispers. "It's okay."

"We understand, Anon", Natsuki says, without a trace of the barb her voice would no doubt normally have if she saw me like this. "Any idiot could see how much you and Sayori loved each other."

Okay, maybe just a trace.

"We all love her", Yuri adds. "But you were special."

"I..." I'm choking up again. "I... I just don't... how do I even move on? My... my best f-f-friend is d-dead..."

_And it's all my fault, _I want to scream to the heavens, but I don't. The girls would try to convince me that it wasn't, but they'd be wrong. This is my fault, and they're much better off not having to waste their time on me.

"Dummy", Natsuki sobs, but with a small - very small - grin, and boxing me very gently in the side. "Do you even have to ask? We'll be right at the club for you, you lug."

I can see Yuri try not to smile at that, and Monika actually chuckles sadly.

"Every day, for as long as you need", Yuri adds, taking my hand and squeezing it before letting go.

"We all love you, Anon", Monika says, and a single tear leaks down her cheek as both Yuri and Natsuki nod in agreement (though the latter looks like she has to fight the urge to make a grossed-out face - old habits die hard, I suppose).

"You guys..." _I love you too. _I want to say it. But I can't. I don't deserve their love after what I've done. I settle for a simple "Thanks".

Monika puts her arm around my shoulder and steers me towards the cemetery gate. I see one last glimpse of the large photograph of my friend, the ray of sunshine who was swallowed by her rainclouds.

_I'm sorry, Sayori..._

I sob again, unable to help myself, and Monika holds me a little tighter as we head for the exit.

My parents are sitting in the car, waiting for me. I give each of the girls a quick goodbye hug before getting in the car.

Without a word or a look back, my dad fires up the engine and backs out of the church parking lot, starting the journey home.

To a future where I'll have to look at Sayori's house every day, knowing what I found there. To the inevitable nightmares every night. I deserve it and more.

I look out of the window, to the sky. _I'm sorry, Sayori. I wasn't a good friend to you, I couldn't give you what you needed._

I wish I could have told her how much she mattered to me. She was more than everything to me. I wish I could have helped her. I wish I had known then what I do now.

But this isn't one of my games where I can just rely on save scumming when things don't go my way.

I failed her, and she paid the price.

And now... I can never take it back.

**END**

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**A personal plea from the author:**

Depression is no joke. It's a serious mental illness that can (and does) happen to anybody.

If you are suffering from depression, if you have thoughts about harming yourself, and/or if you are having suicidal thoughts, I beg you to reach out to someone right away, such as a friend, a family member, a hotline, or a mental healthcare professional.

Despite what it feels like, I promise that you're not weak for having such thoughts, and you're not weird.

There is help. There is hope.

You are not alone. _You matter._

**Thanks for reading.**


End file.
